Page 38

“Fine, I watch TV, read, eat.” She ticked off her fingers for each thing.

“So things you can do at home.”

“Things I can do alone,” Miyoung clarified, then turned firmly back toward the window.

Jihoon let her end the conversation this time. He figured a smart man knew when to stop poking at a sleeping bear. Or, in this case, a sleeping fox.

•••

At dinner, Jihoon stirred his galbi-jjim, thick hunks of beef and potatoes swirled in a gooey brown sauce both savory and sweet. He plucked up a roasted chestnut, then let it plop back down into a pile of carrots. Dubu sat beside him, her tail thumping hopefully against the floor, but she knew better than to outright beg. Atleast not in front of Halmeoni. Unfortunately for the dog, tonight Jihoon was too distracted to sneak her a bite.

He glanced furtively at his halmeoni, then back at his food.

He did this three times before she said, “Ahn Jihoon, if you keep staring at me, I’m going to think you did something wrong.”

“No, I didn’t. Lately,” he added with a wry grin.

“I found this in your laundry,” Halmeoni said, pulling out the bright yellow bujeok. “You’re supposed to keep it on you at all times.”

Jihoon frowned at it, remembering the night in the forest. How that dokkaebi had used a talisman against Miyoung. Slowly he picked up the paper. “Halmeoni, I have a question about those fables you used to tell me.”

“Yes?” Halmeoni set her chopsticks down and folded her hands in front of her to show he had her full attention.

“Do you know what made gumiho bad?”

“Where did this come from?” Halmeoni sat back, like someone settling in for a particularly interesting conversation. They sat on the floor at the low table in the living room. Halmeoni’s back was to the sofa so she could lean against it.

Jihoon sat cross-legged opposite her, thinking through his words. “Just curious. I remember there was a story about a fox spirit that was good. She helped a monk find enlightenment. I wonder what made the fox turn bad.”

“It’s not as simple as you’re implying.” Halmeoni’s tone became didactic. “A fox is an animal just like you and me. She does not choose evil or good upon coming into this world.”

Jihoon nodded along. His halmeoni liked to take a circuitous route to get to her points, but he always loved hearing her stories.

“According to some earlier stories, the gumiho was, at first, a benevolent creature.”

“Then?” Jihoon prompted, unable to help himself.

“Then, as humans tend to, we needed someone to blame for our problems.” Halmeoni said this like she was apologizing for a great misdeed. “Men fell in love with gumiho because they were beautiful. Then they blamed their adultery on the creatures instead of accepting their own mistakes. Maybe it happened often enough that it became normal to say gumiho lured men into cheating on their wives. And the gumiho was given a label of evil she didn’t deserve. When you’re constantly treated as a pariah and labeled bad, you might begin living up to that expectation.”

Jihoon frowned into his rice. Was this true of Miyoung as well? She wasn’t a bad person as far as he could tell. After all, she’d saved his life. And he’d seen firsthand how cruelly people reacted to her mere presence. Could the harsh words of others turn her into a monster? Had they already?

“What about the liver thing?” he asked. “Where did that come from?”

Halmeoni shrugged as she scooped up rice. “I don’t know about that one. It could be a warning not to drink too much, and they added it to the gumiho myth as a two-for-one deal.”

Jihoon chuckled at the bad joke, but stopped when Halmeoni grabbed his hand, her expression suddenly sober.

“Jihoon-ah, even though I think the gumiho didn’t start out evil, it doesn’t mean she didn’t end up that way. It’s always good to know what you’re looking at before it bites you.” Jihoon nodded slowly, trying to read if there was a deeper message under his halmeoni’s ominous warning.

Then her eyes folded into a smile as she gave his hand a pat and went calmly back to her meal.

The rest of the night, all Jihoon thought about were myths and fables. The lessons they taught and the price they came with.

12

MIYOUNG DIDN’T LIKEbeing home alone, but though Yena insisted on having everything just so, she rarely spent any time in the house. Perhaps she had more of a need for fresh air as a full gumiho. Or maybe she just didn’t like making awkward small talk with her daughter.

The other night as they ate a silent dinner together, curiosity had pushed Miyoung to ask, “Mother, what do you do for fun?”